


Plaything

by JestersTear



Series: Broken and Rebuilt [1]
Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Bisexual Cullen, Bisexual Cullen Rutherford, Degradation, F/F, F/M, Manipulative Relationship, Manipulative f!Inquisitor, Mindfuck, Multi, Sexual Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-04-25
Packaged: 2019-04-27 19:11:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14432238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JestersTear/pseuds/JestersTear
Summary: Cullen falls in love with a manipulative f!Trevelyan, who uses his devotion as a welcome distraction. Blackwall gets added to the mix.





	Plaything

Her sigh is elaborately crafted to carry just the right amount of gravitas, filling the room as her hands push his shoulders away.  
  
"Stop, Cullen. It's no use."  
  
He stills inside her immediately, face falling when she tells him to get out of her. He was close, she knows it, and seeing how hard he is and how fast he complies is almost enough to bring her over the edge. It's been months since he's been allowed to come inside her and, with every passing day, he gives up more and more of himself to her. He stops whenever she commands him to, her Commander, but it never occurs to him that he holds the power to not start at all the next time. Who knew Chantry farm boys were so malleable?  
  
"Elisabeth, I could-"  
  
"No, it's alright, love," she cuts across him, the meaningless endearment rolling easily off her tongue as she caresses his cheek. "It's not your fault. I'm terrible at chess, after all - we all have our insurmountable flaws."  
  
She holds his gaze, as if in understanding. He looks away then, a devastated look in his eyes that makes her giddy. There's nothing he wouldn't do for her, she's sure. Time to test that. She gets up but still doesn’t tear her eyes from him.  
  
"I need you to go back to your tower tonight, Cullen. It's... I've tried being patient, love, I *have*. But you understand that I have needs as well, don't you?"  
  
"I... Yes?"  
  
"I'm going to find someone to bring back here tonight to take care of that. You understand, don't you? It's just sex."  
  
Shock mingles with the pain already in his features, followed swiftly by acceptance. It makes him beautiful, but that's something she'll never tell him.  
  
"Are you sure I couldn't-"  
  
"Cullen. Leave it be."  
  
He says nothing else, his head hung low, picking up his discarded clothing. He can’t help but steal a glance, out of the corner of his eye, as the woman he loves reapplies her makeup to go in search of a different bed partner. She watches through the mirror, delighted.  
  
It's all Josephine's fault, really.  
  
It was _her_ idea, not that she knew it - an offhand comment months before, on how men always tried harder in bed if one didn't let them know exactly how good they were. She's fairly certain Josephine didn't have _this_ in mind, but the ambassador should really think twice about putting thoughts in the brain of an accomplished rogue.  
  
Twisting Cullen around her finger is as easy as coating her blades with poison, as knowing where in the body to strike to inflict maximum pain. It’s addictive, empowering, and she never wants to give it up.  
  
She shoos him off, but kisses him at the bottom of the stairs, reassuring him that yes, he still has her love despite his perceived inability to pleasure her.  
  
Looking at his hunched shoulders, at his defeated gait as he walks away from her quarters, she knows he won't get himself off - she planted that seed the first time, how only a selfish man with not a care for his lover would bring himself pleasure while being unable to do the same for her - and that makes her cross her legs in wanton anticipation. She's going to get well and truly fucked tonight - a shame she has to restrain herself from doing so on Cullen's magnificent cock, but those are just the rules of the game. 

* * *

  
She's not stupid enough to bed one of his men. While it would add layers of fun to her control of him, she needs them to respect and obey him unquestionably on the battlefield, and that might be hard if she fucks through their ranks and spreads rumours of his inefficiency.  
  
Ironically he started out as passable, as innocent as they come - his sexual experiences limited to a handful of half-clothed tumbles in barns, no doubt - but more than making up for it with enthusiasm and eagerness to please; after months of trying everything he can think of, he is now easily the best lay she's _ever_ had.  
  
She wants to come on his cock.  
  
She would, if she wasn't afraid it would give him too much confidence. Maybe she can get away with fucking him on his birthday then suggesting she pretended, for his sake. She just needs to find out when his birthday is.  
  
But that’s something for another day. Today this is an integral part of her handling of him - would be even if she weren’t in the mood to be fucked, which she is. She's on her way to the tavern when Blackwall crosses her path. He wasn’t exactly what she had in mind, but his needs are uncomplicated - he means nothing to her, and he’s really only interested in her body, which suits her perfectly. She's writhing under him like a desire demon not even half an hour later. 

* * *

  
She's angry. Losing the alliance with the qunari doesn't matter much - she's sure they can't be trusted either way - but the look on Bull's face when he thought she might consider ordering him to abandon his men would have been beautiful to explore.  
  
Still, once again, she's not stupid. She much prefers Bull leashed to her through gratitude and shunned by his people than leashed to his people and biding his time with her.  
  
She needs something to take her mind off annoying qunari and how little they think of her ability to see through their ill-conceived schemes.  
  
Cullen's face lights up when she passes through the gates, and it rivals the sun when she tells him to meet her in her quarters after dinner. He clearly isn't expecting Blackwall to be there as well, but she's sure he's learning to live with disappointment. 

* * *

  
The idea comes to her during one of their sessions. She's trained Cullen so well that he knows by now that his place isn't inside her. He licks her in preparation, then watches in agony - because she told him it might help him learn - as Blackwall brings her close to orgasm.  
  
The pain in his eyes grows exponentially as she caresses Blackwall's cheek the same way she used to do to his. It's then that she suggests Cullen ought to repay Blackwall's tutoring by licking his arse as he takes her. She loves the play of conflicting emotions across his face, the burning humiliation, the span between absolute unwillingness and an equally absolute desire to please her. And the pain; always that beautiful pain. It's tragic that she can't see his face as he complies, really. 

* * *

  
Having Blackwall fuck Cullen turns out to be a disappointing endeavour. She was hoping Cullen would hate it more - feel like less of a man, his masculinity threatened - but it turns out that his half-clothed tumbles in barns included boys as well as girls. His true agony lies in not being able to please her, and everything else is just background noise.  
  
She almost has him restart taking lyrium in retaliation, but then he wouldn't _care_ so much, and where would be the fun in that?  
  
Still, there's something to be said about Cullen licking her while being taken from behind by a huge cock he has no real interest in. About his broken sob when she sits herself on his cock after months, sandwiching him between Blackwall and her, only to declare, moments later, that she wanted to give him something nice but she really cannot stand having him inside her with all his ineptitude.  
  
If Blackwall's face betrays a moment of sympathy for the other man, he's quick to hide it. 

* * *

  
Time marches inexorably onwards, and she's growing bored. Blackwall was becoming clingy; she left the man called Thom Rainier in a Val Royeaux prison to be executed at dawn.  
  
Cullen's anguish over her is leading nowhere new and she only has one final way of making it spark. She looks him in the eyes as she says, "I'm truly sorry, Cullen. I can't keep doing this. I hope you- no. I won't lie to you either. I won't insult you by pretending that you'll be able to find someone else. But I can't pretend to enjoy any part of this relationship any longer, and pity will only bring me so far. It's over."  
  
His tortured look is delicious enough that she almost keeps him, but she knows when to stop indulging in a wonderful thing before it becomes harmful to her. She lets him go, her broken Chantry farm boy, and wonders what she'll do for amusement now.


End file.
